New Charms For A New Age
by cbmell
Summary: Post war, Draco is alone at Malfoy Manor, quite miserable. He takes a trip to Diagon Alley, and is ambushed, only to be saved by a mysterious girl. A tale of life and love, and of building ones self from the ground up. Rated M for language/sexual nature
1. Chapter 1:  Alone at Malfoy Manor

A/N: Takes place year 2002, approx 4 years post Deathly Hallows.

Disclaimer: I, of course, am not J.K. Rowling. So I don't own anything she does. Also, feel free to read and review! I'd love some feedback.

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Draco opened the door and entered his favorite of Malfoy Manor's six libraries. It was one of the few rooms that Piggles, the house elf, cleaned; he'd had all but the rooms he used covered in white cloths and shut up after the war. That left this library, a study, his bedroom, and the kitchen. He didn't need anything else. He walked over to the bar, pulled out the firewhisky, and poured himself two shots. He lifted the first glass, and thought, _Here's to erasing the last two bloody years from memory._ Down it went. He left the second glass for a moment, and wandered the room, occasionally looking at books. Nothing was new, he'd seen it all before. Nothing ever seemed to be new anymore. Every horrible thing he'd ever thought could happen _had_ happened. His father was in Azkaban. Draco didn't actually care too terribly much about that, his father deserved it. After dragging Draco and his mother, Narcissa, into the clutches of Voldemort's grasp and the field of battle, Draco would have been happy to see his father rot in Azkaban until he died. Narcissa, however... Draco sighed. It was hard to think about his mother. She had not handled her husband's incarceration well. For the first few months, she'd tried to put up a brave face, but she slowly fell apart, drinking more and more until she was in such a state of alcoholism that Draco himself had intervened. He'd sent her off to therapy, but the shock of withdrawal and her attempted treatment had sent her into a coma. Draco had gone to visit her every day at St. Mungos, bringing her flowers and talking to her encouragingly. Nothing helped. After three months, Draco had stopped visiting every day. After six, he only went once every two weeks. It had been a year and two months since she went into a coma. He didn't visit her anymore.

He was standing back in front of the bar, looking at the second glass of firewhisky. He suddenly wasn't in the mood to drink.

Draco went downstairs to the back patio. Standing on the deck, he looked out at the vast gardens of his family's estate. They were extremely well cared for, especially now that the house needed much less upkeep. Piggles, Draco had discovered, was quite enthusiastic about gardening. He'd given the house elf permission to make any changes to the gardens, as long as it remained well kept. The house elf had praised Draco excessively.

"Oh, Master Malfoy is so kind! So so very kind! Piggles will not forget this, no sir, no sir! Piggles will take very good care of the gardens, master, very good care!"

A few minutes more of that, and Draco had sent the elf away.

Draco took one last look at the sun setting over the English hills, and resigned himself to another evening alone. He spent many of them too drunk to think, but did not drink every night for fear of falling into the same trap his mother had. He missed her. Piggles was a nice house elf, but house elves weren't much for company. They were too thankful and gracious. Draco was a bit vain, yes, and definitely one who liked being admired, but Piggles simply tired him most of the time. And so he spent his days and nights alone.

And, as he did every time he felt lonely, he found himself back in the library. He was perusing books, most of which he had at least looked at, if not read entirely. One book in particular caught his eye. "A Study of Ancient Curses and Hexes." He pulled it off the shelf, took a seat in an exceptionally over stuffed chair, and began to read.


	2. Chapter 2: Owls

A/N: Disclaimer: I, of course, am not J.K. Rowling. So I don't own anything she does. Also, feel free to read and review! I'd love some feedback.

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Tap. Tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap. Tap tap. Tap. Draco rolled over sleepily and looked at the window. It was a gray owl with his copy of The Daily Prophet. He hardly ever read it anymore, but he took one every morning just the same. He rubbed his eyes and opened the drawer next to his bed, pulling out the appropriate change. The bird kept tapping the window impatiently.

"I'm obviously coming, you could have a little patience." He said as he opened the window.

_Great_, he thought, _you are so lonely you're talking to owls. _He shook his head as he took the paper from the owl and gave it the money. _Pathetic._

He looked at the headlines of the paper,

**HARRY POTTER TAKES POSITION AS SEEKER FOR CHUDLEY CANNONS**

Draco sneered. "Stupid git." he said.

The second headline read,

**MINISTRY OF MAGIC TEMPORARILY CLOSED DUE TO EXPLODING PAPERWORK**

He threw the Daily Prophet on the bed, unwilling to read anymore. He was about to go to the kitchens for lunch (he'd have slept later if it hadn't been for the Prophet's owl) when he heard a familiar noise.

Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap. He stomped back over to the window.

"I paid you, go away!" He grumbled as he opened it. The owl flew inside and perched on his dresser. This owl was not the one from the Prophet, it was more of an orange color and seemed to be a more patient bird. He walked over and took the letter that was tied to its ankle.

"Uh, thanks." He said. The owl hooted once before flying away.

Draco was unsure of who this letter could be from, or even what it could be about. He hadn't recognized the owl that had brought it, and he was not expecting mail from anyone. With a shrug, he opened it and read,

_Dear Draco,_

_We've some news from your father. He would have written you himself, but as you know, prisoners in Azkaban aren't allowed contact with the outside world. He worked very hard to get this information to us so we could pass it along to you. Meet tomorrow down Knockturn Alley, near the back entrance to Borgin & Burkes._

He put the letter down and sighed. What could his father want? He was truly skeptical of his father trying to get information to him. Draco had testified against his father during the trials after the war, and in return for his testimony (along with the help he'd given to The Order of the Phoenix), Draco had escaped going to Azkaban himself. That fact alone made him a little suspicious of his father's intentions. Even more dubious was the lack of a signature at the bottom of the letter. And without informing him as to who they were, the mysterious senders had requested to meet in Knockturn Alley, a place commonly used by dark wizards. Although the only wizards Lucius would be able to sneak information to would indeed be former death eaters, meeting in a place so well known for its ill intentioned customers made Draco a little nervous.

Over a bowl of potato soup, Draco pondered whether or not he should meet these mysterious friends of his father. The letter as a whole had seemed a bit dodgy, and Draco wasn't exactly in the mood to deal with Lucius's antics anyhow. Not only that, but it had been months since he'd left the Manor. After the trials and aftermath of the war, Draco had stayed home to care for Narcissa. Once she went into a coma, Draco hadn't had the energy or drive to leave the house. Crabbe and Goyle were both dead. Pansy was still as stupid as ever, and now that he didn't have to keep up family appearances (there was no one left to force him to do so) he'd pushed her away, out of his life. Blaise Zabini had tried to owl him a few times, but Draco hadn't been interested in seeing him. The last letter Zabini had sent him was about six months ago, and it was to tell Draco that he was getting married. Draco had replied with an owl that simply said,

_I wish you the best in life. I hope you are very happy._

_D.M._

There hadn't been anyone of consequence in his life besides those four people and his family. He had been so arrogant and haughty in his time at school that he hadn't made any true friends. At the time, he'd thought he could do everything himself. He was a Malfoy, after all, and Malfoys do not need help. Nor do they fail. And Draco had failed, quite miserably, in his task from Voldemort. Draco hadn't killed Dumbledore, and in the end, he had turned his back on the Dark Arts and fled to take refuge with The Order. He'd even ended up helping them, spying on his father and stealing information from Malfoy Manor. Draco's thoughts drifted back to his father's trial.

"YOU ROTTEN TRAITOR!" His father had screamed, fighting the magical bindings that kept him to the chair. "I'll kill you if I ever get the chance. You are no longer my son, you filthy sack of muggle shit!" His face was red and puffy from struggling. Draco had never seen his father this way; where was the cool, calm, collected Lucius everyone knew? He'd surmised that Lucius had somewhat lost his mind once he'd realized there was no way out. No way to avoid Azkaban, no way to avoid penance for the atrocities he'd committed. He had murdered hundreds of people, wizard and muggle alike. He'd tortured countless others. All in the name of Voldemort. And still, even after the death of his master, he was loyal to the cause. Pure blooded wizardry was all Lucius ever cared about. And Draco had believed every lie that had come out of his father's mouth for a very long time. Once his father had begun to force him to work for the Dark Lord, Draco had started to think with a mind of his own. And that had made him the person he was today. He had abandoned his puristic values about blood lines. A person was a person, whether muggle, pureblood, or mudblood. His hatred for people who weren't exactly like him had made him a friendless, almost soulless person with no ambition, no drive, and no love for anything. He had nothing to strive towards, no one to live for. And now, after destroying his own family and bringing Draco to this miserable point in his life, Lucius wanted to tell him something? It was all too unreal. He spent another endless day of loafing about the manor and feeling sorry for himself, thinking about whether or not he should go. At one point, he wondered if the information his father's lackeys had would help keep Lucius in Azkaban even longer. And while his father was not going to see the light of day for a very long time, Draco wanted to extend that day as far into the future as possible. In the end, curiosity won out, and he decided that the next day, he would take a trip to Diagon Alley.


	3. Chapter 3: Flourish & Blotts

A/N: Disclaimer: I, of course, am not J.K. Rowling. So I don't own anything she does. Special thanks to _bekahbeebee, _and _Another Witty Ninja_ for the favorites and reviews! Your encouragement has really driven me to keep writing. :)

* * *

Draco hadn't been out and about in quite some time, and wasn't exactly happy at the prospect of being thrust into the company of countless other wizards. He had redeemed himself in the eyes of the law, yes, but had he redeemed himself in the eyes of the rest of the wizarding world? He shook his head to clear his thoughts. _Come on, _he told himself, _man up. _He straightened his collar and looked at himself in the mirror one more time. His blonde hair was fairly short, but long enough to get in the way of his deep gray eyes. His hand absentmindedly grazed the scar on his collarbone. It was a deep, jagged line, a gift from Voldemort that had almost killed him. The members of the Order of the Phoenix had gotten him to St. Mungo's as quickly as they could, and while the caretakers there had been able to keep him alive, they could do nothing about the scar. Bringing him back from the brink of death had been difficult enough. Draco hadn't remembered much of what happened, only learning the details from his mother after he was released from the hospital. There had been a gathering of Death Eaters, to celebrate the victorious outbreak of several of Voldemort's key followers from Azkaban. Draco had been exceptionally unhappy about seeing his Aunt Bellatrix again, because spying on Voldemort was difficult enough, without your insane, zealous aunt around to see right through you. Which, of course, she had. He heard curses start flying and only remembered falling to the ground in excruciating pain before the world went dark around him. He shook his head, clearing his mind. He nodded at his reflection curtly before heading to the fireplace.

He took a handful of floo powder from the stand next to the mantle.

"The Leaky Cauldron!" He yelled, and was whisked away by the magical floo network.

He stepped out of the pub with his head held high, ready to take on anyone who wanted to talk to him about his disappearance from the magical world. He expected to be mobbed by paparazzi, love struck fan girls, or at least Rita Skeeter. But no one came. In fact, people hardly spared him a passing glance. He was relieved, but a little disappointed. He hadn't left the manor in months, and the Malfoy's used to be so important in the eyes of the magical world. He smiled sourly to himself as he thought, _Shouldn't be surprised though, dad did a right good job of mucking up the family name._

He didn't know what time he was supposed to meet his father's "friends", but he figured he had a bit of time to pop around the shops first. He stepped into Flourish and Blotts, smiling at the plump, middle aged witch behind the counter. Her eyes widened a bit, but she managed a smile, albeit an astonished one. He went down the aisle labeled "Potions, Mixology, and Alchemy" just to look around. He reached for a bright yellow book called, "Powdered Pastries and Other Delicious Instant Foods". The title had intrigued him. He stood on his toes, and as he tried to pull it off the shelf with the tips of his fingers he was suddenly thrust to the ground.

"Oy!" he yelled, "Watch what you're doing!"

The startled young woman looked perturbed, as if she'd been bothered more than he had. "Right... sorry." She said. Draco looked at her as he stood up. There was something funny about her accent. She started to continue down the aisle, with her face buried in a notebook. He guessed this was why she'd bumped into him in the first place. He was still curious about her accent, and called out to her.

"Where are you from?"

"Bum fuck nowhere."

"Eh... sorry?"

"Oh, its just some stupid small town in America."

"Ah. That's why you sound strange."

"You're the strange one, Sunshine."

"Are you insulting me?"

She laughed, and Draco's cheeks tinged pink. "No," she said, "I was referring to your hair."

Draco's hand instinctively went to touch his blonde locks. He'd always been proud of his hair.

"Right. Well, carry on with your book then. Just try to watch where you're going, eh?"

"Sorry. I'm just very interested in my latest project."

"May I inquire as to what it is?"  
"Freezing charms!" she said excitedly.

Draco thought back to his lessons with Professor Flitwick. "From what I remember, those are a bit dodgy... Its hard to keep things alive when you freeze them."

"Yes," she said, nodding, "It's why I'm doing some research. I'm hoping to develop a new freezing charm, that let's you keep the frozen target from dying." She sighed. "No such luck yet, though."

"Is that why you're in England?"

"Well, my mom's been English my whole life. I just never met her until my dad died a few years back. They didn't leave off on very good terms when I was a baby."

Draco was surprised at this sudden insight to her life. Maybe she was as lonely as he was, looking for a friend... He forgot to reply, staring at her intently. The girl was quite short, probably no taller than 5'2", with a beautifully proportional body that had just the right amount of curve to it. Her hair was brown, and was wavy rather than curly, and she had eyes that seemed to switch colors when she moved in the light, sometimes green and sometimes brown, but the gold flecks just around her pupils never faltered, glimmering in the low light of the bookstore.

"Pictures supposedly last longer." She said. He looked away quickly as he coughed. She cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

"Beverly." She said.

Draco looked at her strangely. "Is that some kind of muggle car?"

"Its my name."

"Oh," he said, thoroughly embarrassed, "Draco Malfoy," He extended his hand toward the girl. When she put hers in his to shake it, he brought her small hand straight up to his lips and kissed the back of it gently. Her cheeks flushed as she muttered, "Crazy Brits."

"I... I should be going." She said. He nodded.

"Enjoy your time in England, then."

"I've been here for 3 years already."

"Oh. Do you miss America?"

"Not at all." She said smiling. "Maybe I'll see you again sometime, Mister Malfoy."

"Please, its Draco. Mister Malfoy is in Azkaban."

At that, Beverly's eyes widened.

"Your father is in Azkaban!" She exclaimed. Draco shushed her and looked about. He didn't need wizarding folk reminded about the Malfoy family's sordid past. Although, he reconciled to himself, they aren't likely to forget soon anyhow.

"I thought you'd been here for a few years?" he asked.

"Yes, but I don't read The Prophet. It's absolute garbage."

He smiled at her when she said that. He hated The Prophet.

"Well, if you want to hear about my family's history, we should find a better place to continue this conversation."

"I'd like that." She said grinning. "I just need to find that book first... Can I meet you somewhere in about an hour?"

He thought for a moment. He could to and see if Lucius's lackeys were ready to see him yet, and if they weren't he'd just go again closer to dinner time.

"Sure. Where were you thinking?"

"How about the Quiddich shop?"

Draco's mouth fell open a little. This girl was saying all the right things.

"Sounds good, Beverly...?" He left the question hanging.

"Lake. You can really just call me Bev, if you like. Most people do."

"Bev." He said. "Bev Lake, it was lovely to be run into by you. I'll see you in an hour."

She nodded and turned on her heel to go find her book.

Draco watched her walk off as he wondered, _How old is that girl? She must be out of school. But she hardly looks twenty-two._ He made a mental note to ask her as he left Flourish and Blotts to head down Knockturn Alley.


	4. Chapter 4: She Swears Like A Sailor

A/N: Disclaimer: I, of course, am not J.K. Rowling. So I don't own anything she does. Special thanks to _bekahbeebee, _and _Another Witty Ninja_ for the favorites and reviews! Your encouragement has really driven me to keep writing. :)

* * *

Draco stared at the entrance to Knockturn Alley, trying to ignore the tense knots that were forming in his stomach. Too many of his father's friends would kill him if they had the chance. But, after all The Order did for him, he felt as if he owed it to them to see what information Lucius's goons potentially had. Although, he reckoned to himself, any member of the order would tell you to get back up. He pushed the thought away with the realization that he might have to talk to Potter. Sure, he'd turned against Voldemort and joined the enemy's side. That didn't mean he had to like Harry, or Granger, or any of the hundred and twelve million Weaselys. He'd learned to be cordial with them, but that was about the extent of it. They'd worked together to end the war, and then they went their separate ways. The only people in the Order he'd ended up being remotely friendly with were Remus and Tonks. And they'd been killed. He hadn't spoken to any of other Order members since the end of his father's trial.

Once he took the first step down the dingy corridor, it didn't seem so daunting. He passed the front entrance to Borgin and Burkes, making his way to the back door. Two rather large looking men were standing there, but they didn't intimidate Draco. He'd filled out considerably in his 7th year, and maintained a strong physical stature (acquired playing Quiddich) doing laps in the family pool. He enjoyed swimming immensely, and the best part about the Malfoy pool was that it was enchanted to maintain itself. It never got dirty, the water never needed to be tested for chemicals or temperature. The pool was always perfect.

Draco instinctively sneered as he approached the two men.

"We're here on behalf of your father." the fatter one said.

"I'd never have guessed." he sarcastically replied.

"Oh." The second man cackled. He then explained himself quite unnecessarily. "Yeah, Lucius sent us." Apparently, he was not too bright. Draco sighed.

"What exactly does he want?"

"He, eh, asked us to give you a... little present." the bigger man grinned, showing several gaps where teeth once were. The rest of his teeth were not exceptionally well kept; this did not come as a surprise to Draco, seeing as the man was an overall slob. Draco shuddered, swallowed to stop himself from gagging, and said, "Get on with it, then."

The smaller man made a noise that could have been a laugh, a cough, or a cackle. Draco was beginning to get a bit nervous.

He heard footsteps behind him, but for fear of turning his back on the two men in front of him, he decided against looking to see who it was. This turned out to be a mistake, as there was a sudden sharp pain on the back of his skull. The world went gray as he hit the pavement, and Draco Malfoy blacked out.

"Shit, shit, shit! Fucking, hell-ass, mother of... fucking dammit!" The slur of curses flew out of Beverly's mouth as she studied her handiwork. The fatter man was stupefied, the cackling one was suffering from a nasty case of Petrificus Totalus, and the third man had run off after she'd disarmed him. She turned to the problem at hand.

"Draco, wasn't it?" Bev said, shaking him. She thought about it for a second, then shrugged. "Come on, Sunshine, wake the fuck up! We've got to move."

He groaned and tried to sit up. Beverly grabbed his arm and helped hoist him up against the wall of the building.

"What in bloody hell!" He exclaimed. Beverly noticed how delicate his hands seemed as he touched the back of his head. When he looked at them, they were tinged red.

He stared at his bloody fingers intensely until Beverly broke the silence.

"What, surprised it isn't blue or something? We've got to go! Those curses won't last forever, you know."

"What did you do to them?"

"Later!" she promised. "What part of let's get the hell out of here are you having trouble understanding?"

He looked at the two men he'd been speaking to only moments before, and he visibly stiffened and stood up.

"Right." he said, and added with a slight grin, "You're much more verbal when you're upset." Then, without warning, he grabbed her around the waist. "Hold tight," he whispered. Her eyes went wide and she opened her mouth to speak, but she was interrupted by the sudden jolt of apparation.


	5. Chapter 5: Tea and Cigarettes

A/N: I apologize for the last chapter being so short and rushed. Here's a long one to make up for it! I also made a couple of tweaks to chapter 4, so if you have the inclination, you may want to re-read it.

Disclaimer: I, of course, am not J.K. Rowling. So I don't own anything she does. Also, feel free to read and review! I'd love some feedback.

* * *

Once they appeared, Bev realized how close she was holding Draco, and her cheeks flushed as she pushed him away from her and dusted herself off.

"A little warning would be nice, next time." She mumbled.

"My apologies." He said sincerely. Draco noticed her embarrassment and a sly grin came to his lips. It had been a long time since he'd had someone to be close to, and he could tell she'd liked it. He didn't want to embarrass her further, though; in fact, he wanted to make her feel comfortable. Maybe she'd stay awhile, give him some company.

"So who were those guys?"

Draco ignored her. "Cup of tea?" He asked instead, as he snapped his fingers twice. Piggles appeared and bowed graciously.

"What can Piggles do for Master Malfoy?"

Draco looked at Beverly. "What kind of tea do you like?"

She was more curious than thirsty, but said, "Well I don't really drink much tea. I'll take anything you have, I guess."

"Bring us a tea tray with a pot of Paris tea, please." Piggles nodded enthusiastically and quickly waddled off to the kitchen. After the house elf had left, she questioned him again.

"Well?"

Draco looked at her, his head tilted a little to the side. He had no idea who she was, whether or not she was trustworthy, or if he should contact the order before anyone else.

"Come on!" she said, furrowing her brows, "I literally just saved your life, and you don't have the courtesy to tell me who was trying to kill you?"

Draco thought a moment more before he replied, "I believe they were trying to kidnap me, not kill me."

"Great." She said, "That's much more comforting." She cocked an eyebrow and looked at him sternly.

Draco could see she wasn't going to give up until he answered her, so he offered her his arm.

"Join me in the sitting room?"

"Where exactly are we?"

"My home."

"Won't they come looking for you here?"

"They wouldn't be able to get past the magical barriers." He said dismissively.

She nodded, and glared at him slightly, before roughly putting her arm in his. "Fine."

As he led her down the hall, Beverly's mind was reeling. Who was this beautiful blonde boy? And where exactly _was_ this home of his? It was quite exquisite, with beautiful green wall paper, bright silver candles lighting the way as they went. Even the carpets looked expensive. She felt like she'd been transported to a five star hotel.

They reached the sitting room, and Draco opened a door that hadn't been used in quite some time. It creaked as he pushed it inward, revealing a moderately dusty room. With a flick of his wand, the dust and furniture covers disappeared. He motioned for her to enter.

She did so, looking at the furnishings in awe as she went toward a green striped couch. She sat down, finding it one of the top five most comfortable couches she had ever experienced.

"So... you seriously live here?"

"Yes." He answered.

"Alone?"

A moment passed before he answered, "Yes." Beverly noticed the heaviness of that one word.

"It gets lonely, I bet." She said. Draco simply nodded.

"So who were those men?"

"They-"

Just as he was about to answer her, Piggles strode in carrying the tea tray. The house elf triumphantly placed it on the table. Beverly noticed how much pride the house elf took in serving his master. It made her like Draco a little more; one can always tell a good person from the bad one through the way they treat lesser beings. The house elf bowed and asked if there was anything else Draco needed. He said no, and waved the house elf away as he sat next to Beverly.

Draco picked up the tea pot and poured tea into two beautiful porcelain tea cups. Each cup was inlaid with green and silver swirls, and the handle was shaped like a snake, which followed the rim of the cup. He held out the cup and saucer, and motioned for her to take it. She did, and sipped it politely. It was hot, but not too hot, and the tea was fruity and dark. She found that she actually liked it.

"Those men," Draco began, "Work for my father."

"Who is in Azkaban, if I remember correctly." She interrupted.

"Yes."

"May I ask why?" She said.

"He was one of Voldemort's head death eaters during the war."

Her eyes widened at this. Draco continued. "He even went so far as to convince me to work for the Dark Lord. I found that I was beginning to challenge everything my father had ever taught me. And after some time, I changed my allegiance, and began spying on Voldemort for The Order."

"The Order?" she asked.

"The Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore and Harry Potter's lot." he said, grimacing slightly.

"What, you don't like the people you switched your allegiance for?"

He laughed. "They're a bunch of uppity know it alls." He said.

"Did you get the dark mark?" She changed the subject. Draco nodded as he winced a little, but set his tea down and pulled his sleeve up.

"There isn't anything there," she murmured, touching his wrist lightly. He shuddered, and to his dismay she pulled her hands away.

"I'm sorry, my hands must be cold."

Draco smiled a little, thinking that cold hands was not the reason for his trembling. There was something special about this girl. He continued his story. "Once Voldemort was killed, the magic binding the mark to us was gone. It was fairly easy to remove after that."

"I'm sorry you fought in the war. You must have been young."

"It was my final year at Hogwarts. I was about fifteen or sixteen when I was recruited to be a death eater, but by the time I was seventeen I'd decided my father was a lunatic."

She nodded and sipped her tea.

"How old are you, if I might ask?" Draco said suddenly.

"Twenty three." She replied.

"How can you be two years older than me?" He said, "You hardly look twenty."

"I've always looked a little young for my age." She said, shrugging. "Mind if I smoke?" She asked. Draco quickly transfigured one of the decorative statues on the table into an ashtray. She took this as a sign that it was fine, and pulled a pack of camels out of her bag. She opened it and held it out to Draco. He took one, feeling a little silly as he did so. He'd smoked in school sometimes, to increase his "cool factor," but he'd never really been a smoker. It was a nice treat, every once in a while though. The nicotine rush always made him feel a little light headed, but in a good way.

She lit her cigarette and held the lighter out to him. He took it and did the same.

"You know," he said, "I always thought it was supposed to be coffee and cigarettes."

"Well," she laughed, "We've got to work with what we've got. Tea and cigarettes it is!" They clinked their glasses together lightly. The two sat smoking and drinking tea in silence for a moment, before Beverly spoke.

"So" she said during an exhale, "You still haven't told me what the fuck is going on."

Draco laughed. "No, I guess I didn't."

"Well?"

"Well, as you know, my father is in Azkaban. What you don't know is that I helped put him there."

"Ouch. Talk about damaging the father-son bond."

"I don't regret it." He said sternly, more to reaffirm that belief for himself than to show Beverly. They sipped tea and smoked in silence once more until Beverly said, "Come on, keep talking, Sunshine. I've got all day."

Draco took a drag from the cigarette as he grinned. He rather liked the nickname she'd given him. The only nicknames he'd ever had before were awful, awful names Pansy had bestowed upon him. Finally he said, "I got an owl from an anonymous person, telling me they had information about my father, and that they needed to meet me. I figured it was a trap, or at the very least a bad idea, but I didn't want to have to deal with Potter and his hoity-toity friends."

"What's so bad about Potter? He's always been that guy that everybody loves, you know, like Ferris Bueller."

"Ferris Bueller?" Draco asked scathingly. Beverly just laughed.

"A movie character."

"Oh this is one of those muggle studies things, isn't it?"

Bev leaned back and looked Draco in the eye. "Got something against muggles?"

"No, no. Well, not anymore, anyway. I just... wasn't very good at muggle studies. I take it you're from a muggle family?"

"Nope. We're pretty much pureblood, with a few exceptions here and there among marriages in the family. But, my best friend growing up was a muggle. It was hard, as a little kid, to accept that she wasn't getting a letter, like I was." She laughed as she added, "We had some good times fooling around with magic outside of school, though."

Draco nodded and gave her a half-hearted smile.

"Whats that face for?" She asked.

Draco contemplated whether or not he wanted to admit what he was thinking. It made him a little nervous that he was letting his guard down in front of her. He didn't _do _that. _ Where's that tough-as-nails exterior when you need it?_ He asked himself, and sighed.

"I envy you. I never had a friend like yours growing up."

Beverly's expression softened a bit. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"In fact," he admitted without realizing, "I don't even have friends now."

A look of confusion crossed the brown haired girl's face.

"What about your pals from school?"

"Dead. Or married. Or people I never really liked to begin with."

"Bummer." She said. She put the end of her cigarette in the ash tray and took another out. She gestured for Draco to take one as well.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Suit yourself, Sunshine." She said grinning. She lit her second camel before she said, "So tell me why you don't like The Boy Who Lived."

"Ah, well, he and I were in rival houses at school. I just never much liked him. Always doing the right thing, the good thing, blah blah blah."

"Doesn't sound so bad." She said grinning.

"Oh," Draco said coyly, "You're one of _those_ people."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know, always following the rules all the time."

Beverly snorted. She held up her cigarettes. "Really?"

Draco laughed. "Well, maybe not. Anyway, that's all that I know, really. Those men work for my father and they wanted something from me."

"Like what?"

"Revenge for my father's incarceration, most likely."

"Will they try again?" She asked. Draco shrugged.

"I'll probably alert The Order, and just let them take care of it." He said. She nodded and took a drag from her cigarette. "You'll just... send them an owl?"

"Well, no... I guess it'd have to be encrypted or something... dammit." He said. "I'm going to have to talk to them in person." He flopped back and leaned his head on the arm rest of the sofa.

"Better to let them look into this than get yourself kidnapped somehow."

Draco agreed. He studied Beverly a moment as she smoked her cigarette. She really was beautiful. He didn't even mind that she'd smoked. He'd always liked the smell and flavors of tobacco, he'd just never fully thrown himself into that lifestyle. His parents would have beaten him for acting like a muggle before shipping him back to Hogwarts.

After a few moments of silence, Draco looked Bev in the eye. "Hungry?" he asked.

"Starved." Was her reply.

"Well then, love, let's get something to eat. What are you in the mood for?"

"Anything, really. I'm not terribly picky."

"Then it'll have to be a surprise." He said, grinning. He set his cup down and put Beverly's on the coffee table as well. He held his hand out, and she placed her hand gingerly in his. He took hold of it, and hoisted her onto her feet. With her cigarette still in her other hand, she looked at him curiously.

"What..." She started to say, but was suddenly pulled closer to Draco, who wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Ready?" He asked.

"You've got to stop doing this." She said, her grin proving the opposite of her words. Draco simply smiled, and they apparated.


	6. Chapter 6: The Boy Who Lived

A/N: Much thanks to _thisisnoproblem_ and _Story Thief_ for favs and reviews! The reviews really do encourage me to keep writing.

Sorry it's been so long since I updated- my life got a little crazy. Here's Chapter 6!

Disclaimer: I, of course, am not J.K. Rowling. So I don't own anything she does. Also, **please** read and review! I'd love some feedback. :)

* * *

They arrived in the living room of The Burrow. Bev stepped away from Draco, and unless she'd seen it, she wouldn't have believed it was possible for Draco to get any paler. He looked nervous. She gave him a questioning look as she gestured to her surroundings. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.

"Draco?" A voice sounded from across the room. They turned to find a plump, pleasant looking red headed woman with dishes cleaning themselves floating around her.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley." He said as warmly as he could. As much as he didn't like the Weasley's or The Burrow very much, these were the people who had sheltered him, fed him, and kept him safe during the war. He would forever feel as if he owed them a great debt. And so, he forced himself to be nice.

"It's so wonderful to have you! I'm afraid I'm a bit of a mess right now, we weren't expecting anybody." She shooed the dishes, and they floated off toward the sink. "RONALD! GINNY! HARRY! HERMIONE!" Draco winced visibly as Molly shouted.

"No, it's okay, reall-" he started, but the head of the Weasley home wouldn't have it.

"No, no! I'm sure everyone will be so glad you've come to visit." She smiled. And suddenly she seemed to notice Beverly, who was half hiding behind Draco.

"OH! And who is this lovely creature?" She swooped towards them and gathered them both up into a hug. "It's wonderful to meet you!"

"Thank you!" Bev squeaked out through the tightness of the hug. At that moment, several pairs of footsteps pounded down the creaking steps.

Harry stopped quite suddenly at the bottom of the steps when he saw Draco. In pure domino fashion, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron smacked into each other in sequence as they reached the first floor and found there was no where to go. Harry stayed quite stoic until Ron, the final person, fell into them, and they all went tumbling to the floor.

"Interesting friends, you've got." Bev whispered. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Nice job, Weasel," he sneered.

Ron stood up and dusted himself off. "Shut it, ferret-boy."

"Hello, Draco." Hermione said as Harry helped her and Ginny stand. "It's been a while since we've seen you."

"It's been a while since ANYBODY has seen you, from what I've heard." Ginny commented.

"Well it's none of your bloody business who I see, is it, Ginger?"

Harry looked at Draco. "You'll never change, will you?"

Draco laughed. "You still wouldn't like me, so what does it matter?" To this, Harry shrugged.

"Cut it out, you kids." Mrs. Weasley said. "Does anyone know where Arthur is?"

"He's messing with the vele-tision out in the shed, I think." Ron said. Molly left to find him, grumbling about muggle contraptions.

Bev looked at Ron. "Did you mean he was fixing a television?"

"Uh, yeah. That thing muggles watch moving pictures on."

"Movies are wonderful." Bev said. Hermione looked surprised.

"You're a muggle, too?" The bushy-haired girl asked.

Bev shook her head and said. "I'm a pureblood, but I grew up with a muggle best friend."

Hermione smiled, happy to have found a kindred spirit in Beverly.

"So, eh, who are you?" Ron asked none too tactfully. Hermione elbowed him in the side, much to Ron's dismay.

"Beverly Lake. Who are you?"

"Ron Weasely. That's my sister, Ginny. This is my, uh well, this is Hermione." Ron said blushing. "And that's-"

"Harry Potter." Bev filled in, giving The Boy Who Lived a once over with her eyes. He didn't look all that special.

Draco cleared his throat. Harry looked at him, and they exchanged a knowing glance.

" So, what happened to bring you here?" Harry asked.

"I received this owl yesterday," Draco explained as he handed Harry the letter. Harry read it quickly and then said matter-of-factly, "You went to meet them."

"Yes."

"You should have come to us first!" He growled as he passed the parchment to Hermione.

"I don't have time to listen to you tell me what I did wrong. I went, and I was ambushed." Draco said. "The only reason they didn't get me was because Bev here happened to be at the right place at the right time." As he said it, he realized it was true. He must be very lucky, for her to show up like that... how had she known where he was?

Hermione's eyes opened wide. "Was it anybody we know?"

"No one I'd ever seen before. Lucius must be finding new lackeys in prison."

Harry nodded. "How did you get away?"

Draco told them the story, with Bev popping little details in here and there, concluding with apparating to Malfoy Manor.

"So what do you want us to do?" Ginny asked.

"Haven't got a clue. Just figured you ought to know my royal ass of a father is finding ways to get to people out here. And that's the Order's problem."

Hermione looked at The Boy Who Lived. "Harry, we-"

"Should call a meeting, I know," he finished.

"Dad's going to be so angry." Ron mumbled.

"No joke." Harry said. "Oh, on the subject of jokes... where's George?"

"He went to the shop."

"But, Ron, that's-"

"In Diagon Alley." Harry finished. Hermione put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Stop interrupting me!"

"Sorry, Hermione, it's just-"

"That if George is in Diagon Alley, he might be in trouble. Everybody knows where the shop is." Hermione interrupted him.

"What shop?" Bev cut in. She was tired of not knowing what was going on.

"Weasely's Wizard Wheezes."

"I love that place!" Bev said excitedly.

Ron smirked. "Then you'll love George. He owns it."

Bev's jaw dropped. Draco rolled his eyes.

"What's the likelihood that George ran into those thugs that got Malfoy?" Ron asked.

Hermioned looked at him and said, "Probably very slim. But, I'd like to check on George just the same."

"Check on George?" came a voice from the doorway. "Whatever for?" Mr. Weasely entered with Molly not far behind.

Harry sighed. "We don't have time to explain. Ron, Hermione, you come with me to Diagon Alley. Malfoy, please explain what's happened to Molly and Arthur."

"Oh right, you go run off and have all the fun and leave me here." Draco grumbled.

Harry snorted. "What, you want to come check on George?"

Draco huffed, "No, go save your friend. I'll just fill Mr. and Mrs. Weasely in and then we'll be on our way."

"On your way?" Hermione asked. "You aren't going to help?"  
"What do you need me for? Besides, we've got a dinner date."

"Oh, how nice!" Molly squealed. "Harry, Ron, please go with Hermione to the shop. I'll see you three for dinner in a bit."

"What about me?" Ginny said angrily.

"You can help me with dinner." Molly said. Ginny crossed her arms and frowned.

"Go." Molly said, pointing to the fire place. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped inside as Ginny stomped off angrily.

For the next few minutes, Draco explained everything to Arthur and Molly. Arthur's face sank visibly throughout the story, more and more worried by the minute.

"And then, well, we came here." Draco said.

Arthur sighed. "I'll call Kingsely. He'll want to know. We'll set up an Order meeting, at Grimmauld place. I'll owl you."

"Thanks." Draco shook Arthur's hand. Molly hugged him, and then Beverly as well.

"Oh I do wish you would join us for dinner." Molly said.

"Well, we-" Bev began, but Draco cut her off.

"_Really_ must be going." He put his arm around Bev and whispered, "Shut up." She glared at him, before turning and smiling at Molly.

"Thanks for your hospitality, Mrs. Weasely."

"Anytime, dear! I mean it, you are so lovely. Please come back and visit us."

"Come along, Molly, let them go. Maybe you can help me with the vele-tision."

"It's a television." Bev corrected.

"Oh. Right. Television." Arthur said winking. Draco gave Bev a sympathetic look.

Arthur took Molly by the hand and dragged her out of the room talking about red cables and out boxes and something that sounded like cat food. Bev wasn't sure how that correlated with televisions, but she shrugged it off and turned to Draco.

"Where to?"

"It's still a surprise." He said. And off they apparated once more.


	7. Chapter 7: Shimmering Sands

Special thanks to_ Alice246, i like twertles _ & _AlmostAVampire_ for the story favorites! It's nice to know people are actually reading this.

Disclaimer: I, of course, am not J.K. Rowling. So I don't own anything she does. Also, **please** read and review! I'd love some feedback. :)

* * *

Bev looked around and saw nothing but some palm trees, water, and an expanse of sand that seemed to go on forever.

"I sure hope you didn't get us lost, pretty boy." Bev said raising an eyebrow.

"We're exactly where we're meant to be." Draco said. He pulled out his wand and flicked it with practiced precision, and from the end of it came a blanket that spread itself out on the ground next to the water of the oasis.

"Have a seat, Miss Lake." He said, while bowing slightly and gesturing to the blanket.

Bev smirked. "Don't mind if I do, Mr. Malfoy." Draco cringed slightly.

"Please, Beverly, call me anything _but_ that."

Bev lit a cigarette as Draco conjured a bottle of wine and two glasses. As he poured her a glass, she caught his eye and grinned slightly. Draco started to grin before tinging slightly pink and looking away. This made Bev smile even wider.

"Well then, _Sunshine_." She used her nickname for him as a jab at his distaste for the name Mr. Malfoy. "What's on the menu?" Bev played with a handful of sand as she looked at the blonde boy. His blonde hair shone splendidly in the stunning moonlight. The moon itself sat high in the cloudless night sky, reflecting off the shimmering sands and the oasis's deep pool with enough brightness for Beverly and Draco to see easily without aid. She looked around, and watched the moonbeams play off the palm tree leaves and disappear into the darkness of the branches.

Draco scooted closer to her on the blanket. "What were you hoping to eat?"

Bev took a drag from her cigarette as she thought about it. Draco sipped his wine and looked at her expectantly. She looked straight into his eyes to answer but stopped; in that mere moment, that one glance, something happened. Beverly could not look away. His gray eyes no longer seemed cold, but very alive and irresistibly alluring. The smoke slowly escaped from her partially parted lips as she stared at him with wonder. Draco had kept her gaze, his eyes piercing into hers. He noticed the smoke trail from her mouth and slowly wander up and away from her face, twisting in the air to match her wavy locks. He finally blinked and broke their stare. He was unsure of what had happened, or how to proceed. Beverly blinked a few times trying to shake off the feeling that things would never be the same.

"So..." he asked hesitantly, "What are you hungry for?"

"Well, uh, I don't know..." Bev said, her breath catching in her throat. "What about, uh, Thai food?"

Draco smiled. "Thai food it is." He snapped his fingers twice and Piggles appeared.

"What can Piggles do for Master Malfoy?" the eager house elf was wide eyed and smiling.

"Would you please prepare some traditional Taiwanese dishes for us?"

"Of course, Master! Piggles is so happy to serve." The house elf beamed as he bowed and then disappeared back to Malfoy manor. Beverly giggled.

"He's a cutie."

"I wouldn't go that far..." Draco said. Bev lightly slapped him on the leg.

"C'mon, Sunshine, he's fuckin' adorable."

"He's a house elf." Draco said, and laid on his back and stared up. The stars were crystal clear, and they seemed to jump off the vast blackness of the sky that went endlessly in all directions. He simply lay there, taking in the beauty of it all. Beverly sat next to him quietly smoking her cigarette, occasionally sipping on her glass of wine. She wondered what it was about house elves that made the blonde boy so snippy. She was curious to be sure, but as not to upset him, she didn't pry.

"Tell me about America." Draco said suddenly.

"Oh, there's not too much to tell. People there are all idiots or jerks and if they don't have their head shoved so far up their own asses that they can't see the light of day, they won't give you the time of day because you aren't important enough to them."

Draco smiled. "That's exactly how I feel about the Brits."

"Hah, that's something we've got in common then." Beverly raised her glass and said, "To an intense hatred of our own culture brought about by the stupidity of our own people."

"Cheers!" Draco said as he brought his glass against Beverly's. They each took a large swig of wine. Beverly looked at her glass and then looked at Draco's.

"Honey, you aren't nearly far enough along. You've still got half a glass and mine's almost empty!"

"I prefer to savor my drinks rather than slurp them down unscrupulously."

Beverly faked an insulted look. "Are you suggesting that I have no class?"

"I am." Draco said with his favorite smirk adoring his face.

"Well then!" She said standing up. "I think I'll be going." She shoved her cigarette butt into the sand and strode off into the palm trees. Draco watched her walk away, thoroughly confused. Had she been serious? He'd only been joking, how could she be so offended? He'd only met the girl that day and already couldn't consider a life without her. In half a day she had become the only friend he'd had in the last four years, and he was not about to let her go.

"Bev, wait! I'm sorry!" He said as he hurried to his feet and chased her down. As he reached her, he was panting heavily. Draco was shocked to see that Bev was laughing. She was _laughing_ at him! How dare she!

"You rotten little-" But Draco didn't get the chance to finish, because Bev's arm was around his neck and her lips were pressed firmly against his. He knew she'd felt it; there was an intense connection between the two of them he couldn't put into words. He was just so unsure of everything that even something that used to make sense to him, the fairer sex, was a complete and total mystery. He wasn't sure if it was that she was a girl, or that it was _this_ girl, but something about what was going on between them was driving him insane. He had to figure it out. He had to figure her out.

Beverly kissed him a moment longer before gently tugging on his bottom lip with her teeth as she pulled away.

"Sorry, Sunshine. This wine's going right to my head."

"No, don't-" Draco started, but before he had a chance to say anything, Bev was already headed back to the blanket. "... apologize." He finished his statement in a mumble to himself. He ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes, counting to ten. When he was fully collected and felt like his calm, usual self, he walked back over and sat next to the small, wavy haired girl.

"Cigarette?" She offered.

"Yes, please." Draco said. As he lit the cigarette with Beverly's small blue lighter, Piggles suddenly appeared holding a tray that seemed to be bigger than the house elf himself. The small creature set the tray down in front of the two humans and grinned with abandon.

"Thank you, Piggles." Draco said.

"This looks absolutely amazing!" Bev said. Piggles blushed quite furiously and shuffled his left foot.

"It is nothing, kind one, just a simple meal!" The house elf squeaked out.

"You really have outdone yourself, chap. When you get back to the manor, don't do any work for the rest of the evening and tomorrow as well." Draco said before taking a drag off the cigarette.

"Oh, no, Master, Piggles could never-"

"Oh, yes, Piggles, you can. I demand that you take a holiday." When Piggles heard this, he nearly fainted.

"A holiday, oh, Master, you are too kind!"

"You beserve it!" Bev said with her mouth full, "Dis is increbible!" Her cigarette was long forgotten, smothered in the sand.

Draco looked at the house elf with a genuine smile. "Enjoy your evening, Piggles." The house elf bowed as deeply as looked elf-ly possible, his nose nearly scraping the floor. And when he stood up, he vanished.

"You really need to try this," Bev said, holding a fork out towards Draco's mouth. He looked at it for a moment before putting out the cigarette and taking the fork from Bev's hand. His eyes widened as he experienced the flavors Piggles had so lovingly cooked into the Thai food.

"That... that really is bloody good." Draco said. Bev nodded as she continued to eat.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the meal, before Beverly couldn't contain her thoughts any longer and asked, "So, what's the deal with you and house elves?"

Draco lowered the fork he had been about to insert into his mouth. "I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"I don't know, you just seem to have this weird thing about them."

The blonde boy thought for a long moment. He stared out at the water of the oasis as he said, "I believe it has something to do with my parents. They treated house elves like... well, like property. Not like creatures with feelings. I have worked very hard to extrapolate myself from the image my parents presented to the world, and they way they raised me, but old habits are very hard to break." They sat in silence for a moment longer before he continued, "I sometimes find myself thinking about things the way I used to and, quite frankly, it terrifies me. So when I notice myself responding to something the way my parents used to, I withdraw." Draco rubbed his arm uncomfortably before adding, "I'd rather be nothing than what they were."

Beverly nodded. "Makes sense." She took another bite. "I'm sorry I asked. I just, it's weird sometimes. You're confusing."

"I confuse you?"  
"Yeah, I've only known you for like twelve hours and you're already invading my brain."

"What is that even supposed to mean?" Draco asked.

"It means, Sunshine, that we still don't know who's after you or why, that I'm not sure why you brought me to the desert in the middle of no-man's-land... I don't even know how old you are, or how you feel about stupid things like cake or music or broccoli and I... I'm not sure what happened today. Why we were brought together or why any of this fucking matters. I just know that I haven't been this happy in my entire damn life."

"You're happy?"

"Yeah, dummy, I'm happy." She sipped her wine, refusing to make eye contact with the blonde boy. What the hell had prompted her to say all of that? Sure, it was true, but it wasn't as if she'd known this blundering idiot long enough to even care about him, never mind like him. Right? And that whole kissing episode earlier, that was just the wine. She knew she was deluding herself, but it seemed better than the alternative- that they were somehow meant to be here, in this place, together. Bev had never believed in fate, and she wasn't about to start believing it now. Coincidence, random happenstance, anything but fate. Anything.

Draco stared at Beverly as she actively avoided his gaze. He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm... I'm happy too. Even if someone is trying to kill me, I met you in the process and I wouldn't have it any other way." She finally turned her head and their eyes met. She gave him half a smile.

"Well, Sunshine. Let's see what that wonderful house elf of yours brought us for dessert."


	8. Chapter 8: Catch!

**READERS:** I guess something funny happened when I uploaded my last chapter, because part of it was missing. I am so incredibly sorry I didn't notice before now. Nothing in the Bev/Draco section has changed, but the small section on the baddies has been improved to, well, make sense. My sincerest apologies.

Special thanks to:_ AGirlFromEngland_ and_ Alex5542_ for the story favorites! I greatly appreciate anyone who's author fav'd or added this story to their Story Alerts. You are all so encouraging! :)

Disclaimer: I, of course, am not J.K. Rowling. So I don't own anything she does. Also, **please** read and review! The feedback keeps me going, guys!

* * *

The room was dimly lit. A study, from the looks of it, and one that belonged to someone with excessive amounts of money. It had a certain air of superiority about it, with unnecessarily expensive furnishings. Gaudy candelabras stuck out like sore thumbs from walls lined with forest green silk. Mahogany trim graced the high ceilings and the floors, and the furniture itself was just as distinctive. High backed arm chairs sat in one corner with a fully stocked bar in the other. Book shelves flooded with ancient volumes lined the wall opposite the door and the other side of the room housed an imposing looking desk. The man who sat behind it snarled at the creatures before him and slammed a manicured fist against the table.

"Shut up, you insignificant cretin!" his cold voice hissed. The heavier man instinctively took a step back from the desk while the thin man simply cowered and whimpered.

Hesitantly, the fat man spoke. "What are we gonna do next, boss?"

Long, spectacularly clean fingernails tapped the dark wood of the desk. "I don't know."

A moment of tense silence passed before the cold voice spoke again. "Where is the third member of your party?"

"That other bloke got scared and ran off when the girl attacked," the fat one answered.

The voice behind the desk growled. "Why is reliable help is so hard to find?"

"Wot about the girl?" The skinny man asked as he itched his arm nervously.

"Yeah," the fat man piped in, "She really came outta nowhere."

The man with the manicured fingers spoke, each word grating louder than the first. "Do you know who she is?" Both of the other men winced.

"N-n-no." the skinny man whimpered, before trying to stand up straighter and say a little clearer, "Um, no."

"Well," the cold voice "You had better find out."

The thin man bowed quickly and the fat man clumsily followed suit. The man with the cold voice smiled. If these men failed, there were always others; men with a lack of intellect who simply wanted coffers in their pockets. And he knew where to find them. His master would not be pleased if they could not succeed in kidnapping Draco. Their plans depended on it.

* * *

"Draco, you can't be serious." Bev said.

The blonde boy scoffed. "This is my home, Beverly, I refuse to feel threatened here."

"But they _know _you live here. They'll come looking for you!"

"If they didn't come looking for me here immediately after the attack, why would they come now?"

Beverly stopped walking in thought. "I... I don't know. It just seems silly to me now that I've thought about it. We shouldn't have come here right after the attack, and I don't think we should be here now."

"Well I'm not leaving. The wards around this house are strong enough to keep anyone out. You're free to go, though." Draco said, and haughtily stomped off to the library.

Beverly growled under her breath and followed him. She wasn't sure what was keeping here here, but there was something inside of her that wouldn't let her leave without Draco by her side. It was as if after her first attempt to save him, she felt obligated to _keep_ saving him. She shook her head angrily as she followed him through the door.

Her plans to yell at her new-found friend stopped as short as she did when she saw the expanse of books laid out before her. The room went up four stories and every single bit of space on every wall was filled up with books. And Beverly wholeheartedly loved books.

"This... is pretty fucking amazing." she said, her voice just loud enough for Draco to hear her from across the room.

"I'm glad you like it. I often come here to think."

Beverly didn't answer, lost in her exploration of the library. Her fingers brushed the spines of books as she walked around, taking in titles and authors and trying furiously to decide which book to pick up first.

A thought occurred to the girl and she turned to look at the blonde boy. "Are there any books on charms in this library?"

Draco sunk into a lusciously deep, green chair. "Of course. Fourth level."

Beverly raced up the steps. "You may have something to help me with my research!" Her excitement made her voice loud and it carried through the room. Draco couldn't help but smile.

"Freezing charms?"

"Yes!"

"Why are you trying to develop new charms anyway?"

Beverly laughed. "It's my job."

Draco looked up at her and watched as she perused his library. "Your... job?"

"Yes. My job. Most people have them you know. We don't all get to inherit millions from filthy rich parents."

Draco ignored her snide comment. "And who do you work for?"

"The Ministry, of course."

Draco made an audible gagging sound. Beverly's pleasant laugh graced his ears once more.

"I know what you mean. I don't always like them either, but, alas, it's a paycheck." She was leaning on the railing with a book in her hand, leafing through it while looking at him.

"It sounds kind of nice, having to worry about normal things like paychecks. I'm more worried about falling into bouts of self loathing or being attacked by the remnants of Voldemort's followers."

"He's dead. We're living in a new age, Draco. Get with the times."

"You're suggesting it's my fault I have to worry about those things?" He snuggled deeper into the chair so he didn't have to crane his neck so much to look up.

"No, I suppose not. But you could just go on a killing rampage, get rid of the lot of them, and be done with it."

"I'd end up in Azkaban with my father, are you nuts?"

"Fine, get a job as an auror and then you'll have everyone's permission to kill Voldemort's wackos."

At this, Draco laughed heartily. "Me? An auror?" He wiped some tears from his eyes as he continued laughing. "Oh, God, what a horrific thought. I'd lick Potter's nuts before I'd join the Ministry."

Beverly snorted and buried her face into the book she was holding, heaving with laughter.

"You're willing to lick the nutsack of the boy who lived? I'd best give him a call to let him know."

Draco's voice became serious. "Don't you dare."

"Fine, fine. But, you can't say I never offered to do you any favors." Bev said. And then she suddenly yelled, "Catch!" and began tossing books down toward Draco. The first caught him off guard and smacked him in the leg, but he managed to catch the next two. The third and fourth books smacked soundly on the desk, unharmed, and the fifth landed squarely on his right foot.

Draco howled in pain and hopped around holding his sore toes. Beverly looked over the edge of the balcony.

"Now what are you fussing about?"

"A little warning would be nice, next time!" Draco said through clenched teeth.

"You were warned. I yelled, 'Catch!'" She smiled down at him. "I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

Draco looked up and cocked half a smile at her. "I guess so."

Beverly clapped excitedly. "Now," she said as she headed down the steps, "Let's start freezing things!"

An hour later, several tea cups were thawing, a bottle of champagne was completely encased in a block of ice, and Beverly's left hand had some hints of frostbite. They had decided to do their tests in an unused room, in case of an accident. They'd pushed all the covered furniture off to the side, but nothing exceptionally dangerous had happened thus far. Beverly was becoming more and more frustrated with their lack of success.

"Well, that won't do." she said as she looked at her latest attempt. The flower was completely frozen and had several icicles dangling from its petals. "I wonder what we're doing wrong."

"I'm not sure." Draco said, also examining the flower. "I wonder if it's the words of the spell or the hand motions."

"It should be a swish, right?" Beverly said, her attention now focused on one of the volumes she'd thrown at Draco from the top of the library. "The normal freezing charm uses a swish, so it's safe to say that any other type of freezing charm would as well."

"The goal is to keep living things frozen, but still alive. I can't imagine a simple swish would do that." Draco argued. Beverly thought for a moment.

"I feel like this picture is trying to describe it, but it isn't written in any language I recognize, never mind can read."

"Isn't there a spell that lets you read other languages?" he asked.

"Yes, but I think in order for it to work, you have to know what language it is."

Draco shrugged. "Try it anyway."

Beverly raised her left eyebrow at him and grinned. "Okay."

"_Permissum mihi lego_"she said, and flicked her wand at the book. Nothing happened. Beverly sighed and looked at Draco. "Worth a shot, I guess."

"Yeah." he said yawning. "Any clue what time it is?"

"None whatsoever." She smirked. "You can't be that sleepy, can you?"

"Well we have done a bit of traveling this evening, and who knows how long we were away."

"Haven't you got a clock in here?" Bev asked looking around.

"Everything is covered in white sheets, I haven't got a clue what's in this room. I think it used to be a sitting room."

"Well let's head to a room that does have a clock, shall we?" Beverly asked, holding her arm out for Draco. He slipped his arm through hers and they walked out toward the kitchen. They walked in silence, Draco's heart hammering in his chest. He felt he should be saying something, but nothing came to mind. His tongue felt tied in knots and his mouth was dry. He looked at Beverly and she smiled at him. Her smile sent a wave of warmth throughout his body and he opened his mouth to speak.

Before he could do so, a crash drew his attention to three figures running towards them, stepping over a fallen vase.

"Oh, shit!" Beverly shouted, and immediately grabbed Draco's arm and led him the other way. "Well, Sunshine, do you feel threatened _now_?"

"This is NOT the time for witty banter!" Draco growled and it was his turn to grab Beverly's arm and lead her in a different direction. They were now in a section of the house she'd had yet to see. It looked like an area full of guest rooms. Each door was open and as they rushed by, Beverly could tell the furniture was covered in white sheets like most of the house.

"Where are we going?" she huffed as he dragged her along at an extreme pace. Draco was in good shape, and ran quite fast.

"Just keep running!" was the blonde boy's only reply. She followed him as fast as she could, hardly keeping up with his long strides. As Draco knew the manor well, they had managed to outrun their unwanted visitors, but Bev knew they'd catch up eventually.

Suddenly, Beverly's arm was yanked violently to the left as Draco dragged her through a small, easily missed door and down a smaller corridor. The walls were suddenly rough stone, and no longer was the floor carpeted decadently.

"Where the hell are we?" Bev asked. The blonde boy shushed her and whispered in return.

"Servants quarters."

Beverly kept running but was no longer satisfied to simply follow on. Her curiosity got the best of her as she asked in a hushed tone, "You have servants?"

Draco snorted. "Of course not" his low voice was almost a rumble as he whispered. "Not since it was outlawed, anyway."

"That was hundreds of years ago! Is this house really that old?"

"Yes!" Draco whispered impatiently, "Now shut up." He listened beyond their own footsteps as they ran, and could hear other faint footsteps somewhere in the passage behind them. His father's lackeys were on their trail. They would reach the door he needed soon, he was sure of it.

He suddenly skidded to a halt and the brown haired girl nearly fell into him. He took Bev's hand in his tightly and said, "Don't be afraid."

"Of wh-" she began to ask, but Draco plunged through the wooden door without opening it, and pulled the girl he'd come to adore with him.


End file.
